


Ripped Pieces Of Paper

by ProstheticLoVe



Series: Gallavich Week 2020 [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Best Friends, Fluffy Ending, GW2020, Gallavich Week 2020 Best Friends Day 5, Ian and Mickey are best friends, Ian and Mickey talk, M/M, Mickey has a crush on Ian, Mickey snoops, Pining, Some Drug Use, ian has a crush on mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProstheticLoVe/pseuds/ProstheticLoVe
Summary: Mickey definitely doesn’t have a crush on his best friend, Ian. He definitely wasn’t snooping when he came across Ian’s list of people to call when he is feeling low. And he definitely didn't feel his heart jump when he saw his own name at the top and circled on that list.GW2020 Day 5 Best Friends.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Gallavich Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846240
Comments: 14
Kudos: 187





	Ripped Pieces Of Paper

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No one belongs to me! If they did, we’d get a whole show about Gallavich.
> 
> This is for GW2020 Day 5 Best Friends. Here’s my little fic I wrote. Of course, I had a scene in my head and I really wanted to explore a different way for Gallavich to reveal their inner most feelings to each other. So I hope you guys like it! (There is some pot smoking, just as a warning!)
> 
> If you're reading my WIP, then my update may be more like this weekend since I've been writing and editing this fic and the domestic one for tomorrow. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! And Happy Gallavich Week!

_Mickey._

~~_Lip._ ~~

~~_Fiona._ ~~

~~_Mandy._ ~~

Mickey Milkovich stared down at the list of names on the lined piece of paper. His eyes zeroing in on his own. He took note of the circle. The letters were bright and bold against the stark contrast of the white paper. The way it stood out from the other three names on the piece of paper produced a strange tingling in Mickey’s stomach. Running a finger over the seven letters he’d gone by ever since he could remember, he wondered why the fuck Ian had written down his name and circled it, as if to emphasize it.

As if it was important to him.

After he discovered the gnawed cord attached to the phone charger, Ian told him to grab an extra one he had. Mickey was rooting around Ian’s bedside table when he’d pulled out the half piece of paper instead of the promised charger. 

At first, he thought it was just a scrap piece of paper Ian had started writing on and never finished his thought. (A few months ago, Mickey had the opportunity to peak into Ian’s mind thanks to the journal he’d written in when he was first diagnosed with bipolar. Mickey had found it full of half formed thoughts, just like this.)

But for some reason, this seemed different. 

Upon closer inspection, he noticed it wasn’t folded at all. It had been strategically stuck in his bedside table on the very top of the junky draw, as if he wanted it to be within reach. 

His mind began to race as possibilities streamed through his mind. Why would his best friend covet a piece of paper with his name on it? Why was it on the top of his junk drawer? And why was his name circled?

“Mickey? Did you find it?” Ian called out from the living room.

Scrambling to put the piece of paper back in the drawer, he grabbed the phone charger and headed back into the living room of the apartment he and Ian were sharing. It was a small, two bedroom apartment they paid way too much money for, but it was out of the Southside and away from their old neighborhood, so he didn’t complain. Plus, he got the chance to live with Ian, alone and away from all their baggage. 

It wasn’t a bad setup.

Mickey didn’t mind coming home anymore, especially when Ian was waiting for him.

“Yeah, I found it,” Mickey responded holding up the charger and plugging it in where his old charger had been. Thanks to their cat, Leo, the wires were exposed and peaked through the protective layer more and more. Leo liked to chew through all types of cords, so Mickey should’ve been better prepared.

He probably would’ve been more annoyed if the orange cat had been a nuisance. But he was cuddly and kind and Mickey had a soft spot for him since his coloring was similar to another redhead he enjoyed.

Leo been a stray who lounged in the back alleyway behind their apartment. Mickey had taken to feeding him two winters ago and suddenly they found themselves saddled with him. He had tufts of thick orange hair and after Ian did some research on the type of cat he was, they found out he was a Maine Coon. 

Mickey had wanted to call him Firecrotch and Ian wanted to name the cat Lion, so they had compromised and called the cat Leo.

As he came to sit on the couch in the living room, he picked Leo up and settled him on his lap so he could sit on the cushion for their movie night.

He glanced at Ian who was sitting next to him waiting for Mickey to get settled. A movie was prepped and ready to watch on the screen. Tonight was their weekly movie night and Mickey had grabbed dinner on the way home while Ian got to choose the movie. He wasn’t surprised to find Double Impact on the screen since it was now free on Hulu.

“You have such a hard on for Van Damme,” Mickey said, leaning forward to grab his discarded plate of pizza on the coffee table before sitting down beside him.

Ian smirked, “You put me through Mercenary For Justice the other night. If I was going to be forced to watch a Seagal movie, we should’ve seen Machete.”

Mickey scoffed at him, “you’re just pissed cause I won the bet and now you’re forced to watch Seagal movies for a week straight.”

“Next time I won’t bet something so precious,” Ian muttered as he started the movie.

Mickey stared at him for a minute, watching the profile of his face. Then he quickly turned away before Ian could catch him.

_Why did you write my name on a piece of paper?_

_Why did you circle it?_

_Do you have something to tell me?_

He opened his mouth to ask Ian why he had his name written on a piece of paper with his two siblings and Mickey’s own sister’s names crossed out. But he wasn’t sure how to ask the question without sounding like a creep. 

It wasn’t like it was illegal.

Nor was it that weird.

Mickey was the one who thought it was weird, but it could be for any reason.

If it was Ian, it was probably a good one.

Maybe Ian had started a list of people to apologize to? 

Maybe he wanted to make a list of people who he could rely on?

But then why was Mickey’s name the only one not crossed out?

What did _that_ mean?

Mickey knew he trusted Lip and Fiona, so why were their names crossed out?

And Mickey knew Ian liked Mandy just as much as the rest of them, so why was her name crossed out?

For some reason, Mickey knew it meant something. A little tugging in his stomach told him so. But how was he going to find out what it meant? He was usually so good at being able to tell what was going on in Ian’s head, but this - this was a fucking mystery.

For a brief moment, Mickey worried that his meds were failing. Maybe he was getting manic? But none of the other signs were there, like the fast talking, the insomnia, or the hypersexuality, which had caused the most explosive fights in the history of their friendship.

No, Ian wasn’t manic… 

It was something else.

Mickey had met Ian on their little league team when they were in elementary school and since they’d been best friends. Through a diagnosis, stints in juvie, both of them coming out, and the death of both of their parents, they had maintained a friendship. 

_Just a friendship_.

That was it.

Ian wouldn’t want to deal with Mickey’s moodiness in a relationship, he was sure, especially if he looked at the past guys his best friend had dated. Mickey knew he was just probably not Ian’s type and he wasn’t even willing to entertain the idea Ian was his.

They were just friends.

That was it.

Ian had joked when Mickey had come out two years ago (right after his dad had been murdered in prison) they could become a couple, but Mickey just laughed it off. 

He knew he had feelings for Ian, but they were strictly friend-feelings. It wasn’t like he wanted to kiss him or anything. It wasn’t like he wondered what it would be like to feel his large hands manhandling him or taste his lips that looked so pink and soft.

This was _Gallagher._ The redheaded kid who he’d forever remember having floppy hair, too many freckles, a dopey smile, and big green eyes. 

This was his best friend. 

He couldn’t have romantic feelings for him. 

It wasn’t allowed. 

He’d decided that years ago. 

If he drove Ian away with his bad attitude or caustic remarks or maybe even the way he kissed, then, well, Ian would be gone. And that thought caused his stomach to hurt. He didn’t want to risk the friendship they had. Ian made him feel like he could do anything, be anyone, and he didn’t want to live a life without him.

So no romantic feelings. 

It had become a sort’ve mantra he’d tell himself when his heart began to beat too loudly in his ears or his stomach got what some people might call butterflies when Ian was around.

The only time the truth had come close to rearing its ugle head had been when Ian started dating fucking Caleb (Mickey hated that fucking firefighter) and Ian had came to him one night to tell him how Caleb had cheated on him with a girl. He remembered that night so clearly. The loud knock on his door. Ian standing outside the Milkovich house with wide shiny eyes. The bullshit story that tumbled from his tongue about how Caleb had cheated, but claimed it wasn’t really cheating cause she was a woman… Mickey knew he had to fix it.

He’d cornered Caleb one day, the anger rolling in his gut. His brothers with him as

Backup. They’d given him something to be sorry about as they left him bloody in an alleyway. Ian had asked him a few days later why he was covered in cuts and bruises, but he’d brushed it off and mumbled something about getting in a fight at The Alibi.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he debated how he’d ask the question that had seared itself into his brain. He’d missed the opening sequences of the movie; his mind too preoccupied with the piece of paper. Ian said something about grabbing another beer but Mickey was too focused on how he could pose the question to him without sounding accusatory or like a weirdo. 

“Mandy’s coming over too, by the way,” Ian said, handing Mickey a beer and sitting back on the couch. Leo nuzzled his hand, which had stopped petting him and shot him an annoyed look until he started up again.

“Okay,” Mickey said, his mind still preoccupied. 

“Figured she could use some time out of the apartment, you know since she broke up with that douchebag,” Ian said munching on a slice of pizza.

“Yeah, sure, man,” Mickey said, deciding to file away his question for another time. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how he could ask it without sounding unhinged.

“I feel bad for her, you know, finding out your boyfriend is cheating on you with an ex...shit’s bruttle,” Ian said conversationally.

Mickey shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye and then went back to watching the movie. “I thought they broke up cause he didn’t say ‘I love you’ back?”

Ian shrugged, “that too, I guess. I can’t keep track sometimes.”

“Hm…”

Ian fell quiet for a few minutes and Leo jumped off Mickey’s lap and headed into the kitchen to no doubt eat. Mickey watched him go and then looked back at Ian who was watching him curiously.

“What?” Mickey snapped.  
“You ever think about dating someone? I mean, more than just fucking,” Ian asked hesitantly.

Mickey bite the inside of his cheek, his eyes pingponged from the movie to Ian and back again before settling on the coffee table littered with the pizza box, beer, and their shared pack of cigarettes.

“Who would I date?” he asked finally when it became evident Ian wasn’t going to drop it.

“Someone on Grindr?” Ian asked, shrugging.

Mickey smirked, “I make a terrible first impression in real life. I’m sure dating online I’d be 10 times worse.”

He watched Ian’s lips curl up slightly, but he didn’t look happy, just a little sad. “You have a lot to offer, Mick, don’t sell yourself short.”

Mickey shrugged, “you’re the one to talk, Mr. Charisma. You haven’t dated anyone seriously in like two years.”

Ian laughed darkly, “I’ve been working on myself, Mick.”

“Yeah, so you don’t have time to go on a date?”

Shrugging, Ian grabbed another piece of pizza and took a bite. If Mickey didn’t know any better, he’d say he was stalling.

“There’s no one I want to date, I mean, no one who wants to date me,” he said through a mouthful of pizza.

Mickey made a face when he saw the chunks of chewed up pizza as Ian struggled to speak around the bite of food. “Yeah, not when you can’t chew with your mouth closed.”

In retaliation, he stuck out his tongue with the half-eaten piece of pizza still in his mouth and Mickey made a loud ‘eww’ noise, shoved him, and looked away. He heard Ian’s amused laughter bounce off the walls of their apartment and when he turned back to him, he saw his lips twisted into a fond smile.

“Who wouldn’t want you when you do shit like that?” Mickey asked laughing despite himself.

Ian shrugged halfheartedly and took a swig of his beer. “A lot of guys.”

“Well, anyone who dates you should be so lucky, man,” Mickey said looking away from Ian to avoid him seeing the red blush decorating his cheeks. 

But he didn’t get away so easily because Ian leaned forward and grabbed him gently by the arm to get him to turn to him. He looked up and saw how close Ian had gotten, his green eyes looked luminescent this up close with the sunlight bathing the room in brightness. His hand felt warm and heavy on his bare arm and he could feel the hairs there begin to stand up at the simple touch. 

He made a mental note to go to Boystown to let some steam off when he had the time and could keep it from Ian. He didn’t like Ian knowing he was sleeping around, even though he knew Ian was. But that was a whole different frustration he wasn’t willing to look into.

 _We’re just friends_.

“You’re a good friend, Mick,” Ian said quietly.

Mickey stared into his eyes, his heart sinking as he heard the word ‘friend,’ despite having reiterated it to himself seconds ago. But hearing the word out in the open reminded himself that Ian _was his best friend_. 

And that was it. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

And he was okay with that.

Really, he was okay with it.

 _Really,_ he was okay with it.

For the briefest moment, he let his eyes flick down to Ian’s rosy, wet lips and then he looked back into those emerald eyes.

“Yeah whatever,” he muttered and then gently moved his arm out of Ian’s grasp and got off the couch on the pretense of grabbing another beer. Although, the one in his hand was still half full. He puttered into the kitchen and downed the rest of the beer, needing a minute to cool off before he grabbed another bottle out of the fridge. He dawdled in the kitchen, doing a few of the stray dishes from earlier in the day and feeding Leo before heading back into the living room. 

Thankfully, Ian’s attention was diverted to the TV and he merely shot him a smirk before going back to the movie.

Mickey let himself watch his profile for exactly a nanosecond before turning to watch the movie too. His mind was full of images of rosy, moist lips and emerald eyes.

* * *

Mandy rang the doorbell only a few minutes later. Thankful that his sister interrupted his downward spiral of discomfort, he withheld his usual greeting of ‘hey, douchebag.’

“What do you want to do?” Ian asked, handing Mandy a beer.

“Let’s play a game,” Mandy said smiling devilishly.

Mickey could already tell this was a bad idea. Mandy was here less than three fucking minutes and she was already ready to dismantle their perfectly quiet evening. 

“Don’t you want to eat ice cream or whatever the fuck people do when they breakup with someone?” Mickey asked looking at the paused movie longingly.

This was supposed to be _their_ movie night.

“No, I want to drink until I pass out. Also, I’m not watching some stupid action movie. It’s either rom-rom or nothing,” Mandy snapped.

Ian and Mickey shared a look.

“What game?” Ian asked finally.

“Never Have I Ever,” she announced.

Ian and Mickey groaned and she cackled in response. 

“For someone who just broke up with your boyfriend, you sound pretty fucking gleeful,” Mickey muttered sipping his beer.

“Do you want me to start crying on your shoulder, Mick? Would that make you feel better?”

Mickey flicked her off in response.

“Alright, I’ll go first,” she said smugly, “never have I ever been arrested,” she said smugly.

“Bitch,” Mickey grunted and he and Ian sipped. Wiping his mouth, he said, “Never have I ever...went streaking.”

Mandy scowled at him and elicited a loud laugh from Ian.

“It was once,” she stated unhappily. “Ian, go.”

“Okay...Never have I ever made out with a girl,” he said proudly.

Mickey and Mandy drank. 

“Alright...Never have I ever...hm...saved someone’s life,” Mandy said looking at Ian.

Ian shrugged, “not something to feel bad about.” 

Mickey watched as he took a drink and then he sighed. “I guess, never have I ever been out of the country.”

Mandy and Ian stared at him, neither drinking.

“That was a bad one, Mick,” Mandy said, shaking her head slightly at him.

“Fuck off. Ian, go.”

“Okay, okay, never have I ever wanted to get married,”

Mickey snorted as Mandy took a drink.

They continued going around the circle, wearing out the usual things they knew about each other such as doing drugs, vomiting while drinking, getting caught smoking pot or having sex. Mickey was starting to feel lighter and lighter the more he drank and Mandy couldn’t stop giggling, which meant she was pretty drunk. Ian, on the other hand, had stopped drinking half way through his second beer. His medication made him a lightweight and just one beer got him trashed now. Mickey was pretty good at watching his intake to make sure he didn’t overdo it. He’d stopped early enough not to do too much damage, but not soon enough to save them from listening to him belt out 80s rock songs.

Currently, he was singing Love Is A Battlefield a pitch off and making Mandy laugh. Mickey took a few minutes to stare at the redhead making a fool of himself. The way his eyes lit up as he sang. The sloppy air guitar moves he thought were enduring. The way the large, dopey smile appeared on his face as he struggled to reach the higher notes. He tried to ignore the heat that was building in his stomach. Tomorrow he’d blame it on the alcohol. But right now, he allowed his eyes to linger a second too long, his lips to curl upward a little higher, his heart to beat a little faster as he took in his best friend.

“Are we done with this fucking game?” Mickey asked after Ian was finished.

“Fuck, I have one more. Never have I ever had a crush on a friend,” she grinned.

He’d never told Mandy about his crush, but judging by the way she was smirking at him, he knew she knew.

How, he wasn’t sure. 

He’d always been careful in hiding his feelings.

_What the fuck._

Strategically, Mickey avoided looking at Ian as he took a drink from his beer. It wasn’t until he was wiping away the moisture from his sip that he realized that Ian had taken a drink too. He looked at the redhead, but quickly glanced away when he almost caught his eye. He took another sip of his beer to make it look like he wanted to drink anyway and then he took his turn.

“Never have I ever eaten something out of the garbage,” Mickey said, smirking as Mandy scowled.

“I thought we were done! And Iggy dared me,” she protested.

He shrugged and got up to grab another beer. It wasn’t until he turned around did he notice Ian was watching him with a curious look on his face.

“Want another beer?” he asked, trying to ignore the squirming in his stomach. Mandy agreed as Ian shook his head. To make sure he wasn’t left out, Mickey offered to roll a joint and they moved into the living room to smoke and watch some rom-com Mandy had convinced them would be good.

Of course, she passed out halfway through the movie, so Ian and Mickey headed into the back of the apartment toward their bedrooms to allow her to sleep. 

“You want to smoke another j?” Mickey asked since he wasn’t tired yet.

Ian nodded and they headed into his room.

* * *

“What’s the creepiest thing you’ve ever done?” Mickey asked, passing the joint back to Ian. 

Ian laughed, “creepy, how? You stalking someone, Mick?”

Mickey shoved his shoulder playfully, “fuck you, Gallagher. Not stalking any one. Just fucking asking a question.”

“It’s okay, I’d still be your best friend even if you were into some creepy shit,” Ian giggled dreamily, “cept maybe foot shit. That’s too weird.”

Mickey moved his hands toward his belly and began to tickle Ian in retaliation. Struggling to choke out a reply, it was swallowed up by a belly laugh. Rolling out of his grasp, Ian lunged at Mickey and pinned him to the bed. He could feel the buzz of the alcohol and the haze of the pot as it flowed through his veins. Lately, he had been trying to avoid wrestling with Ian because he was petrified he’d pop a boner, but he was deliciously out of it and wanted to indulge his desires.

Fighting back, Mickey attempted to wrap his legs around Ian’s waist to try to flip them, but he was laughing too hard and with the joint in his hand, he couldn’t get the upper hand. Instead, he moved one leg up as leverage to push Ian’s hips down. Bucking his hips upward, the movement accidentally caused their lower halves to grind deliciously together. As he tried to control his laughter, Ian moved away suddenly and rolled onto the other side of the bed. Mickey watched as he crumbled in on himself and his face reflected pain for a few minutes before he gave Mickey a strained smile.

“You okay, there, Firecrotch?”

Ian shot him an unreadable look before nodding slightly, “yeah, just stomach ache.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at him and then shrugged, “okay.” He took a hit of the joint and then passed it to Ian, “so what is it?”

“What’s what?”

Mickey huffed, “The creepiest thing you’ve ever done?”

Ian shrugged and avoided looking at Mickey, “oh, I don’t know. Facebook stalking?”

“That’s not creepy.”

“What are you really asking, Mick?” Ian asked, rolling onto his stomach and moving his hand to take the joint. He wiggled his fingers when Mickey didn’t immediately pass it to him.

Mickey hesitated for a moment and then his eyes slid over to the bedside table. The same one where the ripped piece of paper lay. He’d been in that drawer now twice today - once for the cord, the second for the weed - and he kept staring at that piece of paper. 

He couldn’t shake it from his mind. 

Previously, he’d opened that drawer several times. Never had he been so curious about what secrets Ian may be keeping from him. 

Probably because Ian told him everything. 

From crushes on coworkers, fights with Lip, to when he’d first been diagnosed, Ian told him _everything_. Most of the time without prompting. So for him to keep something from Mickey was, well, it was pretty big.

And Mickey needed to know.

The thing was he’d probably bypassed that piece of paper several times before. Whether it was getting out the weed, passing Ian a pen, or even when he’d gotten Ian’s permission to read his journal, he’d been in that drawer.

But now he’d seen his name - circled, emphasized, bold. His name stuck out like Ian’s hair in a crowd. Now that he knew it was there, it was tattooed into his mind, waiting for the right moment to bring it up. 

They had laid in this bed, in Ian’s room so many nights and never had Mickey been so tempted to bring something up and so scared that he would get angry at him.

Even when he told him he was gay, he’d never been afraid of Ian’s reaction.

But he wasn’t even sure he wanted to know the answer.

What if it wasn’t what he thought it was?

What if it was just proof of how _great of friends they were?_

How they’d never be anything else but _great friends._

Not that Mickey was upset about them being _just friends._

_No romantic feelings._

“That piece of paper, with my name on it, why did you write it down?” Mickey asked in a jumble of words.

Ian frowned at him in confusion and Mickey sighed and moved toward the bedside table. He reached into the drawer and pulled out the stray ripped sheet and deposited on the bed between them. Ian’s eyes stared down at the lined paper and Mickey watched him, waiting. 

Seconds turned to minutes of silence and the nervous ball of energy seemed to spiderweb from his stomach into his arms and legs. He finally opened his mouth to make a joke, but Ian finally looked up at him, anxiety shown clearly in his gaze.

“It’s a list,” he said finally.

Mickey’s expressive eyebrows inched higher and he waited for Ian to go on. Instead, he took a hit of the joint and passed it back to Mickey.

“A list of what?”

Ian rolled onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. After a few moments of silence, he sighed and rolled onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow.

“A suicide list,” he said reluctantly.

“What?” Mickey asked, feeling his eyes widen.

Ian bit the side of his lip, his eyes focused on the joint in Mickey’s hand.

“When I went to the clinic my first time, they told me I should make a list of people who I could call if I got too...low - too depressed. The doctor told me it would be a good idea to keep a list of people handy, just to remind myself that there are people who care or whatever. So I made the list. The first person I thought of was you…” Ian plucked the loosely hanging joint from Mickey’s fingers and took a long drag of it before passing it back. 

Mickey took it absentmindedly as he waited for Ian to go on. His body was tense as he waited for Ian to talk. He felt alert in the way you do when you know something big was coming.

“And?” Mickey prompted when all Ian did was slowly bring his eyes north to rest on his face.

“And I made a list: you, Lip, Fiona, Mandy. That was my list for awhile. Until, I don’t know, it was right before we moved in together. After all the Caleb shit, but before that summer we decided we’d live together...it was winter and I woke up feeling... I felt like shit. It just all hit me like a train one morning. I don’t know why. It wasn’t a spectacular day or anything. It was just - it was just _another day_. 

I remembered that list though, I had tucked it into that notebook I cared around, the one I showed you awhile ago. Anyway, I decided to call you and all we did was talk. I’d woken you up. You acted all pissed for a few minutes, but I remember I could hear that you were messing with me in your voice. I remember I listened to you tell me about your GED classes. You told me about Mandy moving out, about Iggy knocking up some girl...I just listened as you talked to me and I don’t know - I felt better. Like this sounds stupid, but you gave me something I didn’t have before,” he paused and reached forward ever so slowly.

Mickey thought he was going to touch his face, but at the last moment, his hand rested on his shoulder.

“You gave me strength and hope. That meant a lot to me. You did it so effortlessly, too. You always make me feel - I mean, well, I knew then that you were all I needed. I mean, to get me through whatever shit I was dealing with. Just needed to talk to you. I love my family and Mandy, but you - _you_ , Mick, are who I want to rely on. So I crossed everyone else off because _you’re it_ ,” Ian squeezed his shoulder once, but Mickey noted he didn’t pull away.

He was speechless as he tried to make sense of what Ian was saying. Suddenly, he saw himself the way Ian did. Ian saw him as being the one person in _the entire world_ he could trust and turn to when he needed help. He thought Mickey gave him strength (he had it wrong though, Ian gave _him_ strength). When Ian felt hopeless, he trusted him to guide him. Ian valued their friendship above everything else.

_Everything else._

He reached forward and bravely rested his hand on Ian’s cheek. He watched as his demeanor seemed to relax and his eyes fluttered shut before quickly reopening to land on Mickey’s cerulean orbs.

Green met blue and Mickey felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

Maybe they were _just friends,_ but Mickey had a feeling as he stared into Ian’s emerald eyes that change was coming.

He could clearly see adoration reflected back at him. 

He knew as they watched each other - Ian’s words cocooning them in a bubble of trust and admiration - their relationship was in the middle of transitioning to something _more_.

Something Mickey always wanted but was too afraid to take the leap for. 

He would remember years down the line this moment was when they jumped together. When he walked toward Ian down an aisle surrounded by their friends and family, brought him breakfast in bed on their anniversary, or even went grocery shopping with him, this was the moment that changed their lives. 

He’d look back on this conversation when he realized Ian Gallagher was in love with him. 

And he loved him right back. 

_Not just as friends._

That’s all he needed to know as he moved forward and finally took the plunge. 


End file.
